Grand Theft Can-Opener
by Feigned Decency
Summary: "I don't understand. It's not where it usually is and no-one enters my cubicle without a reason or a death wish-"


With thanks to Clandestinedly for the beta xx

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He watched her growing exasperation with an element of amusement. From the vantage point of his desk, he could see her rummage through her desk drawers, her actions growing more frantic and confused as she failed to find whatever it was she was looking for.

She eventually threw her hands up in the air before placing them on her hips, scanning her countertop and looking over to him. He quickly dropped the smirk tilting his lips and raised his eyebrows to her in question.

Within seconds, she had thrown open his office door and was stalking towards him, intent laced with confusion and fear on her features as she rounded his desk and began to go through his drawers. "Donna?"

"It's not there," she told him.

"What's not where?"

Whatever it was wasn't in his desk either, and she slammed the bottom drawer shut with a frustrated groan.

"It's gone. I can't find it."

"Donna-"

"The can-opener."

"_What?_"

"I don't understand. It's not where it usually is and _no-one _enters my cubicle without a reason or a death wish-"

He stood up, "Donna, Ray's picking me up for court in twenty minutes!"

"I know!" She paced the room, completely confounded and running a hand through her hair. "I could get the one from the kitchen?"

"That wouldn't work," he scoffed. "What if we just did the thumb tacks?"

Her hip flicked to the side, "As if we could do the thumbtacks without first doing the-"

"I've never been to court without the can-opener, Donna! I need the ritual!"

Her knitted brows suddenly rose as an idea popped into her head. "Follow me."

He watched her retreating figure for a beat before obediently following her through the corridors. He couldn't help his lowering gaze to her swaying hips nor toned legs as she strode out confidently along the maze of halls, her dress flaring out with her gait as she gained a few admiring and desirous glances from their male colleagues, envious looks from the women and an enquiring one from Rachel.

Donna turned into the file room with steeled determination and, to the two jumpy associates pouring over a pile of paperwork, gave an unquestionable "Get out." Of course, they jumped up and left the room with barely a noise as Donna took the top page from a pile, scoffed at an incorrect citation and scribbled something on the back in thick neon-blue hi-lighter before affixing it to the door and turning the lock.

"Donna?" he asked with much amusement. "Why are we in the file room?

"We have," she checked her watch, "seventeen minutes until you need to meet Ray."

He was still at a loss as he dug his hands into his pants pockets and followed her –again- to the back of the room. "Okay…?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Harvey. You said it yourself; you need a ritual before you go to court…"

Realisation finally hit, "Donna…"

She stepped closer, spinning on her heel and dragging her hair over one shoulder. Looking back at him, she pouted, "Unzip me."

His head snapped around to the door and voice leapt an octave higher, "What-? I am not-!"

She spun back around unfazed, "Okay, I can just-" she began to pull the hemline of her dress up her thighs until his hands on hers stilled her.

"Donna, this is crazy. We can't, we said-"

"I know what we said, _I_ said it, but the freakin' can-opener suddenly sprouted legs and you're in court in 15 minutes and I'm pretty sure I could make you come three times in that space because, hi, I'm Donna but, hey, if you're okay going up there in front of Judge MacKenzie with no ritual and a client who, let's face it, needs a muzzle and a sedative and a kick up the ass then-"

She was cut off by his lips on hers.

She couldn't help the little yelp that escaped when she almost immediately felt the edges of the table digging into her thighs and Harvey's fingers pressing deep into her skin on their route up her skirt.

She scooted onto the surface, bringing her knee up to his hip while her fingers began to unbuckle his belt. With the button and zipper free, she yanked the edges aside while her hand slid inside and took hold of him through his boxers.

His assaulting kisses stilled, her lips forming a smile against his as she rubbed the length tortuously slowly. Her thumb slipped through the opening in his boxers; the skin-on-skin eliciting a groan and renewed fire as he began to kiss her harder than before.

One hand made light work of her dress' zipper, tugging at the thick straps until it fell away and revealed the navy blue lace bra and burgeoning cleavage. His lips left hers on a journey down her jaw, the column of her neck as his taste buds reminisced on the creamy, sweet taste of her breasts the last time they were before him; whipped cream sliding and melting before he had chance to lap it up, the can being quickly discarded when the novelty wore thin and desire and impatience grew larger.

Her heels dug into the backs of his calves as his other hand found her panties. He pressed his thumb deep against the material, his teeth scraping across her lace-clad nipple, his hand dragging on the bra until he could flick his tongue against it without barriers.

_Fuck._ She forgot how good he was at this, a serious contender to her sexual prowess crown. She released his cock from its confines - now deliciously hard and warm beneath her hand - and dragged a nail from his balls to its head. She dropped her feet to the floor and - groaning herself at the loss of contact - spun him until he was leant against the table.

Before he could protest - as if he would - she had crouched down on her four inch Louboutin's and taken him on her mouth.

She swirled her tongue across and around the head as Harvey dealt with serious sensory overload. Smoothing her hands up his thighs, she dipped her head, her warm mouth sliding down the length and back up.

His stomach was constricting beneath her wandering hand as she repeated the action, feeling his fingers thread in her hair as she quickened her pace. Humming a tuneless moan whenever she took him in fully, the vibrations from her throat sent a cascade of expletives tumbling from his mouth, her name a breathy sound from a husky, ridiculously erotic baritone.

His breathing became punctuated by moans, his thighs twitching in time with her ministrations as she drew feather-light shapes across the soft skin at the base of his penis. He was close and _Jesus _if that wasn't hot.

His hand was tight in her hair - _so close, yes, fuck - _when the handle to the door rattled loudly. Each froze, head's spinning across the room as their hearts hammered faster and louder - the handle was rattled again before a voice - _Louis?! - _announced 'Which moron locked the door? Who has the key? Seriously, people!'

They relaxed, relief etched across their faces as his voice quietened as he seemingly walked away. Donna's forehead hit Harvey's thigh, deep breaths to soothe rattled nerves. _Shit_, that was close, and Louis would be back so they needed to be quicker.

Harvey hooked a finger beneath her chin, tipped it until she looked up at him and brought her back to her feet. He kissed her; slow, passionate, deep, everything this meeting was not supposed to be and they didn't have the time for.

He held her hips as he spun them so she was sat back on the table, him between her legs as his hands slid up her thighs and back down with her panties.

She hooked her legs around his waist, feeling him hard and wanting and _so close_ to where, _Christ, _she wanted him to be.

He swiped a finger from her opening to her clit and, right as she gasped as he hit the bundle of nerves, he slid into her. Her gasp became a _fuck_ as her back arched and head fell back, her legs clamping around him and nails digging into his shoulder.

He waited a beat before sliding out, almost completely, and back in again. Her hips rolled to meet him as her head fell forward, her lips just millimetres from his and heady breaths mixing in the minute distance. His name fell from her as he picked up a pace quickly matched by her.

He had one arm wrapped around the small of her back, the other hand at the back of her knee as her fingers gripped almost painfully onto the table and his shoulder. He was solid and surrounding her and she couldn't help but curse her stupid fucking policy that had stopped them doing this for thirteen years because _Jesus_.

He hitched her knee higher up his side, allowing him to hit deeper inside her and elicit that low pitched moan that had sent his legs to jelly all those years before and haunted his dreams and nocturnal activities ever since. He switched hands behind her back and fed his fingers between them, circling her clit fast and hard and in time with his thrusts because he seriously couldn't hold out much longer, not with how her hips moved against him or her breasts bounced between them and her walls clenched around him.

Her breath was hot and erratic against his lips until she let out a moan so high and clamoured for purchase against his shirt, her muscles clenching around his cock in a powerful rhythm that sent him crashing over the edge immediately, his head in her shoulder to muffle his groan.

They stayed like that for a beat, breaths fast and audible as reality slowly filtered back in.

He slid out of her, both only just managing to bite back a noise at the loss of contact. He tucked himself back into his trousers as she did her dress, taking the proffered panties with a shared smirk. "Ray will be outside."

He nodded. "That, er..."

She took a shaky breath, "Desperate times, desperate measures."

"Right."

She hopped down from the table, thankful her legs could take her weight. "Grab that box," she told him, pointing to one on a shelf as she ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed down her skirt.

He obliged, an eyebrow tilted in confusion. She lifted the lid and deposited her panties before closing it again and taking the box from him. "Get the door."

They crossed the room, a glance back to check no obvious signs of their tryst remained. He turned the lock, removed the sign and held the door open for her, a gaggle of associates turning the corner as they left the room with Louis at the helm.

His face quickly contorted from annoyance to shock to intrigue and speculation. "You locked the door? What were you doing in there? Is that the Boyd case files?"

Donna tried to keep her smile from becoming a grin as Harvey passed him the make-do sign and pointed to the referencing.

"Oh for-" Louis began, turning to the jumpy associates. "Who can't spell for shit or do correct Harvard referencing? You all supposedly went to that school, you know? And _who the fuck _put 2041? You're all imbeciles! Get out of my face!" He stormed off, through the middle of the party, sending associates fleeing from his path.

"That was fun," Harvey laughed, his hand falling to the small of her back as they retraced their steps through the halls.

She bumped his shoulder, "More fun?"

"Different fun," he smirked, his eyes sparkling in a way she hadn't been privy too in a long time.

"I'll be back later," he told her, his voice lower as they crossed paths and he went to the bank of elevators.

Her eyes flicked to following him, the smirk still on her lips becoming a knowing, coquettish pout before remembering the time and place.

She carried on through the corridor, a delightful ache between her legs with each step reminding her that she had been unexpectedly and thoroughly _fucked _not one minute ago.

Hanging a right, she walked through Rachel's open door and deposited the box on the desk with a thud that made the younger woman jump. Donna crossed to the bottom drawer, pulled it open and retrieved the shining can-opener from atop the litany of staplers.

"You are a naughty girl," Donna warned, pointing with the utensil and a tell-tale grin forming despite her best attempts.

Rachel watched her place it on top of the box, her lips between her teeth as she also tried to hide a grin. "You too!" She blurted as Donna walked back through the doorway, garnering a wink and smirk as she went back to her desk.

Rachel gave a little dance to herself in her chair, giggles and pride filling her as she went back to her case file.


End file.
